He stares out the window, examining the sprawling greens and the glimmering blue on white of the buildings scattered across the grounds. It seemed to stretch on endlessly, this great expanse of land.
It's not the prettiest thing he'd seen -it shouldn't by all means be, these utilitarian buildings and wide acres of gravel and sand, but to Izuku this sight was much more than just what he could gaze. No, what amazed him and left him slightly forlorn was what it meant, to stand here and see the grounds of Yuuei from within the safety of the campus.
Even in his little room in the administration building, Izuku could see the Unforeseen Simulation Join in the distance, shiny blue dome glinting under the sunlight.
It's bigger than I imagined it to be.
Izuku looks over the rest of the campus he can see, lips pursing. Omniscience buzzes quietly at the back of his mind.
Everything is different in person.
The moving had been quick and relatively painless. Naomasa truly was a force to be reckoned with when he had a goal in mind; it took the detective less than three hours to whip the policemen into shape and coordinate his men and All Might into escorting Izuku to Yuuei grounds, where he would be safer than any other location they could provide under such short notice.
Still, he couldn't believe he was here.
Yuuei had been something he'd dreamed of for years. Something Omniscience always pressed into his skull on a daily basis, it's importance to the futures Izuku managed to remember clear as day. Even in the ever twisting, ever moving canvas of timelines that twisted and overlapped and suddenly broke off, Yuuei was always there.
For nearly all Izukus.
(Because there were times where his other selves were bitter and broken, too jagged by cruel words and an even crueler world to ever look at this establishment and feel some semblance of hope.)
And for him, stepping inside this campus had always been something that felt unattainable. Something he shouldn't ever think on less he let out the ugly, dark ball of emotions Izuku had always worked to keep tucked away. Omniscience's rapid uncontrolled growth and the consequence that brought on Izuku barred him from ever going into heroics.
So standing here -living here, for the foreseeable future- felt like something right out of a dream.
Well, Izuku thinks, back straightening. He stares out the window, a surge of determination and bravery crawling up his belly and settling as warmth inside his chest the more he thought about everything ahead. No backing out now.
A bird chirped in the distance.
I'll make the most of this.
Just as he thinks that, he hears the door open.
"You look like shit."
Izuku doesn't even bother fighting back the smile.
"...hi Kacchan."
The blond scoffed at his slow reply, closing the door behind him. He strolled across the room like he belonged, ultimately stopping to flop down next to Izuku on the sprawling couch tucked against the window.
A shiny white card dangling from his neck, gleaming under the afternoon sunlight. Izuku spies a name, a code and a picture of his friend that didn't do him justice with the squinted glare and uninterested expression -like he wanted to be anywhere but there.
Then again, Kacchan had never been one for taking pictures. Or making use of his good looks to Aunt Mitsuki's eternal pain. He'd inherited his mother's good looks and his father's affinity for clothing, but he never made use of it. Katsuki was much more fond of harsh words and a crackle of explosions from his palms to get his way.
On the other hand, Izuku was constantly in pajama pants and bare slippers.
Yeah, Auntie was disappointed in the both of them for sure.
Kacchan peers out the window, watching some staff walking down the path near the main building. They're too far away for either of them to discern whom the people were, regrettably.
"Didn't think I'd see it so soon." Kacchan admitted quietly.
"Hmm." Izuku hums, threading his fingers through the pillows. He leans to the side, bumping shoulders against the taller boy and settling there. The warmth was comforting despite how sunny it was out. "...didn't think I would see it at all."
Katsuki's calm expression faltered, which sent a bold of shame running down Izuku's spine.
"Don't be an idiot, idiot." Kacchan muttered, scarlet eyes turning away to look at Izuku. "You fucking deserve to be here, fucker." Katsuki reached out, one strong digit planting on Izuku's forehead with enough force to make him blink and stay silent. "Sure, you're a twig and like hell you'll be fighting villains anytime soon, but this is a far better place for your sorry ass than that hospital."
Izuku peered up at the finger between his eyes. "It worked." He tried lamely.
"Until some fucker got in in the middle of the night." Katsuki's quick response had Izuku flopping down on the couch and sinking into the pillows.
He's grateful for this couch. Nedzu really had an eye for detail, the man had probably seen his small chair by the window back in the hospital. Izuku nuzzles into the pillows, burrowing his face in their softness.
"Oi, nerd. I was talking."
"Hm…" Izuku mumbles through the fabric. "I'm listening."
"Like fuck you are." And with that he feels a calloused hand on his hair, tugging him up with gentle strength. Izuku yelps. He followed the not so gentle pull, hissing quietly at his companion.
"Kacchan!"
The grip is quickly relaxed on his poor hair, turning into a soft pet. Kacchan chuckles. "What do you think would happen if you ignored me, nerd?" The older boy says, a loopsided half not-smile on his lips. Not a smile, far from it, oh no, because Bakugo fucking Katsuki doesn't smile shut up stupid Deku. "Sit up. You look like matcha ice cream left out in the sun."
Izuku lifted a brow at that. Alright. Even with a foresight Quirk, he had no idea where that came from. Then again the inner mechanism of Kacchan's mind was a mystery to all but the blond himself.
"Matcha ice cream?" He finds himself giggling, sitting up on the couch. "Why so specific?"
Kacchan shrugs, hand sliding off his head.
"Because it's green like your dumb face." The blond says in a tone that made it seem like it was obvious. Honestly it was, now that Izuku thought about it-
Wait.
"Kacchan." Izuku squints. "My hair is green."
The older teen shrugs and leans back on his seat, head tilting back to relieve sunlight on his face. His eyelids shut as he utters out softly. "Not from where I'm standing, you gremlin."
"...that doesn't make any sense."
Kacchan raises a hand in the air. He does a waving motion towards Izuku, who blinks confusedly. "Welcome to what it feels like talking to you 60% of the time."
Oh. Izuku fights down the urge to snort and instead does a little humming noise, knowing how irritating the other boy could find it. "Huh."
Kacchan lifted a single blond brow.
"What?"
"That's low."
Kacchan makes a hissing noise. "Oi, don't try upping that shit."
"I won't!" Izuku raises his hand defensively. "Besides, I probably won't be here for the next few days." He deflates, slumping closer to his best friend. Quietly, Izuku admits what he had been pondering over for the past few days since the hospital. "Headaches are happening more often."
Kacchan's expression promptly sours.
Izuku doesn't blame him. Headaches only meant one thing, when it came to him. Omniscience was going to pull him under -for a while, given the lack of slips lately.
Rarely he had the chance to brace for them. Most slips happened immediately, without warning -one moment he was here, the next Omniscience yanked the cloth over his eyes and he was falling, tumbling, gasping for air as the dam at the back of his mind broke and what he spent most of his conscious hours trying unsuccessfully to filter out before it overcame him came crashing down to sweep him into a torrent.
The absolute worst of the slips could last days.
Days of being there but not there, of being unaware of the passage of time as a human but rather feeling it in an intricate, metaphysical way that no human language could describe. Of having his mind jumping and snapping and being yanked around through several timelines, of his conscious being broken down to pieces and those shards were dropped in worlds similar or so different from his own.
Izuku shuddered just thinking about it.
As if sensing Izuku's fouling mood, Kacchan reaches up and scrambles his hair into an even messier bird's nest.
"Don't do that." Izuku grumbles, but it's half hearted as his mind was still elsewhere, shuddering at the prospect of his inevitable bed rest. "My hair's already a mess."
Kacchan merely snorts, half hearted and fond in a way he would never allow himself to be outside of his family -and what warmth it gave Izuku to know that. "I'll do it again and again until you realize how much of an anxious mess you are being, bug eyes."
Izuku squinted up at the taller boy, making a face at the nickname Kacchan hadn't really used since he was a kid. When times were simpler, and his pupils had been blue but his irises still bright green like his mother.
His piece said, Kacchan leans back into the couch. He stretches like a cat basking in sunlight, eyes sliding shut and huff leaving his lips. Izuku knows the conversation is over and so he scoots closer, pulling himself as close to his friend without risking ending up a sweaty mess because if Kacchan was known for his language, those who truly knew the blond would also know how sweaty he could get during the summer.
Izuku quickly finds the silence they fall into to be extremely comfortable.
He leans down, pressing his head against his friend's side. His eyes slide shut, squeezing as Omniscience writhes at the back of his skull like an undulating snake, whispering things he wishes he could not hear and yet he listens, attentive for any solid crumb of information.
All of this, for him.
.
.
.
He'd never thought he could be scared of someone who was barely taller than him, but Chiyo, as she told him to call her, was truly a terrifying person Izuku would rip his eyes out than to antagonize.
Chiyo Shuzenji was a true no nonsense kind of woman, her quick words and even quicker cane making terrifying weapons she knew how to use to their full potential. Even All Might seemed scared of her, shying away from the tiny elderly heroine the first time he'd come for a regular checkup, coincidentally at the same time Izuku had his.
Nedzu. Had to be.
Izuku had only met the principal once and he didn't even have to wrangle with Omniscience to know how much of a little schemer the man was.
"This is incredible," Recovery Girl's murmur brings Izuku away thoughts about Yuuei's director. He blinks, to which the eldery woman pushes him. "Stay still, dear. I need a clear visual for the camera."
Embarrassment tignes Izuku's cheeks red. He wants to nod, but moving would only attract the doctor's ire so he settles for a quiet apology.
"Right, sorry."
A grumbled hum is his only answer. He can't see Recovery Girl due to the giant lens in front of his only open eye, but Izuku's pretty sure she's not that mad.
Click. With that Recovery Girl rolls the device away from where she'd all but pressed against Izuku's head and sets it on a nearby table.
He blinks multiple times, trying to focus his vision after having been told to not blink for so long.
"Everything good, dear?" Recovery asks over her shoulder. She's shuffling through papers and muttering under her breath words he could not catch -and likely, wouldn't even be able to spell.
Izuku goes to nod, then he nearly smacks himself because of course she wouldn't see it.
"I-I'm good!" He confirms, fidgeting on the bed. It might be childish, but he was getting a bit tired of sitting on those. They could be as comfortable as money could buy but that never changed the fact that staying still is something he hated. "Thank you, you didn't have to go through all this trouble."
As a child, when his Quirk was still budding and not the uncontrolled mess it was now, he'd found it torturous. Only a mixture of patience, visitors and some reflection had kept him from going insane. Now that he was older that impotent frustration had faded, shrinking to only a small puddle that would only swell in the worst days.
Recovery Girl snorts, dragging him out of his musing.
"Nonsense, child." She chimes, turning around. There's a small stack of papers in her hands; Omniscience does a familiar, odd lurch in his head, allowing Izuku to momentarily see what she was seeing.
He recognizes the titles and thus, the contents of the documents immediately.
"Is it done?" A voice calls out from the other side of the room reminding him that yeah, maybe he shouldn't forget that All Might
To be fair, the sight of the Symbol of Peace trying and failing to sit comfortably in a large chair that was still too small for the massive man was something Izuku tried to avoid, less he laugh at his idol. Which was the last thing he wanted and if he did well, he would take a page out of Kacchan's book and jump out a window.
The fact that his Quirk wasn't suited to catch him afterwards was just a bonus.
Recovery Girl sighs sharply in annoyance, turning up her nose at the younger Pro-Hero. "Stop your sputtering, boy! I'm almost there." She grumbles. "It's not everyday I get to examine someone with a Quirk on the scale of Midoriya!"
At the scolding, All Might ducks his head like a cowed child. The look really, really didn't fit a man of his stature, in Izuku's humble opinion.
"You don't have to stay here, All Might." "I'm sure you have a lot to do to get ready."
"It's alright, young Midoriya." The man says, waving him off with one hand. "I think I can spare a few minutes."
Izuku tuts softly. "Nedzu wants your teaching schedule on his desk by tonight, though. You should get on that." He reminds him none too gently.
"How-" The way All Might's face scrunches up was comical enough that Izuku had to muffle his laughter under a quiet cough. The Pro-Hero blinks, struck with a realization. He coughs. "Right. No worries, I'll get on that in a minute."
"Don't make him wait." Izuku tells him kindly, watching as Recovery Girl riffles through papers. "I'm sure he'll have some revisions to do, so the faster you do it the faster you're free of it."
It's strange how the gigantic man somehow manages to look so sheepish.
"Midoriya," Recovery Girl calls to him, diverting his attention to the school nurse. She was looking at him expectantly, papers still in hand. Izuku could guess a mile away without his Quirk what she was about to say. "-are you sure these papers are updated properly?"
There we go.
"They are." He reassures her, only making her frown further. "There's no mistakes on them, Miss." I'm a mess and my medical history is evidence of it.
Recovery Girl makes a hissing noise through clenched teeth. It makes Izuku startle and All Might even flinched. Not that much, but enough to give him worry.
"None of that miss stuff! I'm not your teacher, I'm the one making sure you don't kneel over during your stay under my care." The elderly woman exclaims, scrutinizing him over her papers. Izuku just blinks, because well, who could argue with that. "Just call me Chiyo little one. I have a feeling we'll see each other often enough in the following months, so it's better to skip the formalities."
"O-oh are you alright with that? I can call you Recovery Girl if you'd like!"
"You're no student, boi. Nor some dunderhead hero-" Chiyo spared a narrowed glance at All Might. The man suddenly seemed very, very interested in a fruit fly zooming near the window. "...so just call me Chiyo. It will make things a lot easier."
Izuku can only nod quickly. If All Might was scared of this tiny little old lady, then he should be utterly terrified of her. Size did not matter -it was a wise old lesson he learned from the first time he angered his mother, and something everyone in their kindergarten had learned when one Bakugo Katsuki was introduced to the class. Those poor kids. The poor teacher.
It was a memory he looked back with fondness.
"Your pupils are extremely contracted and your irises have...have holes in them." Chiyo falters, seemingly puzzled as she looked over his medical history and no doubt, that one diagram an enthusiastic ophthalmologist had done. Izuku kind of missed that man for his energetic attitude, but the way he chased any of his coworkers off from him every time they came to peer at him was kind of...terrifying. "Lots of fissures. I saw them while I was using the slit lamp but this is ridiculous."
"I have more, but you can't see them unless I go actively use my Quirk." Izuku chirps, a small, tiny, minuscule part of him that Kacchan definitively hadn't had any part in cultivating rejoicing at the look of sheer befuddlement in the nurse's eyes. "I'm getting more each year, apparently. Part of my Quirk going haywire.
Recovery Girl muttered something likely foul under her breath. Izuku didn't blaming her.
Pupilseption, some small part of Izuku that sounded disturbingly like Kacchan crackled in his head. Despite the sudden urge to giggle at the joke, Izuku wisely kept his mouth shut.
He didn't want a psych evaluation on top of things. Again.
"You really can't control it." All Might's voice snaps his attention to the man. The Pro-Hero was leaning forward, brows furrowed as his gaze shifted between Recovery Girl and Izuku. "...isn't that right? You mentioned something similar before."
"I could, as a child." Izuku admits, voice growing quieter as the memories briefly overtake him. "Not anymore." He grimaces, hands curling on his lap. "That was a long time ago. It just went...haywire. Kept activating over and over again until it just stopped turning off."
At this, the hero faltered. All Might's expression at his explanation was something Izuku was expecting. Pity was something he saw too often, and he had to look away. It was too uncomfortable, even though he'd been on the receiving end of this far more than he could count.
"-which brings up the dilemma of classification."
"It's Emitter."
Recovery Girl purses her lips. "By the way it transformed, it should be Mutant."
"Still Emitter." Izuku denied, shaking his head gently to avoid aggravating his headache. The nurse had given him painkillers for it, but Omniscience as always decided to mostly disregard them. "I could control it. Then I can't. Emitter-Regressor drugs work on it."
Recovery Girl makes a face. It's not a nice one. "That...should not be possible."
Izuku shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, Omniscience stopped trying to split my head in half after the shot, so I'm guessing it did." He maintained, fiddling with his pants to smooth out the wrinkles,
He's wearing some comfy, dark baggy pants that he often used as a pajama even though Kacchan had stressed they were workout clothes, and he should use it when he could given that he was, to quote, 'a goddamn noodle'. It was a nice gift from Auntie Mitsuki.
"Then it could be a transformative Quirk." Recovery Girl muttered, tapping her fingers against the edge of her clipboard. She was spreading the papers on her desk; Izuku really, really didn't like where this was going. He didn't want the poor woman spending night after night trying to figure out the craziness that was his Quirk. "The gradual transformation of your eyes, it could be the result of a maturation process."
Good, but that was already theorized. Izuku was pretty sure it was around the fifteenth page of his medical history. The particular doctor for that one had a mild crisis over his case. Not fun times.
"...it's still Emitter."
Recover Girl turns around, glaring. Izuku shrinks back on the bed because oh, that is a look he recognizes very well. That's the look of someone on the border of A: an existential crisis or B: about to lose it on him.
And just as he thinks that, All Might decides to stretch his neck out and pipe in:
"I have to agree with him."
Recovery Girl promptly reaches for her cane.
.
.
.
Later, when Recovery Girl throws her hands up and throws them both out, Izuku finds himself standing outside the infirmary wing with one of the tallest men he'd ever seen.
"So," All Might begins, remarkably awkward for a man who could likely bench press a bus. Izuku stares up at him, waiting. "Do you want me to accompany you, young Midoriya?"
Izuku considers it for a moment.
Spending time with All Might would be fun…
But at the same time, he doesn't want to. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs; it's a familiar one. The one that served as warning before Omniscience decided to yank him under without mercy.
At least he's not dropping without warning. Those are the ones Izuku hated the most. Just snap, hours or days lost unexpectedly with no way to prevent them.
"No," he finally decides, looking up to smile at the man kindly. "I'll be fine. You have your curriculum to work on. The living quarters aren't that far away." Which wasn't a lie, since Nedzu had given him a room in the teacher's building, where staff would live permanently if they so wished.
All Might coughs. "Right!" He says cheerfully, hands on his hips, but there's a slightly terrified gleam in his eyes that made Izuku chuckle internally. "I must work on that, you are correct young Midoriya! I shouldn't keep dear Nedzu waiting."
Izuku soberly nods.
"Nope. You really don't."
All Might seems to fail to repress a shudder. Izuku spots a single bead of sweat roll down the side of the man's face.
They exchange goodbyes quickly before the man rushes away, no doubt fearing the wrath of his employer should he fail to do what he was hired to do. Izuku knows teaching isn't fully the reason why he's at Yuuei, but it seems that All Might was taking his cover very importantly.
No doubt that a man like him would do his best as a teacher, even while looking for a successor.
Omniscience twists like a coil about to spring at the back of his head, familiar images passing in front of his eyes.
A street bathed in the golden yellow rays of a setting sun. Great sakura trees gently blowing in the wind. The feeling of wearing damp, cold clothing. The wetness on his eyes.
Two dark eyes staring at him, hands curled into fists. White shirt swaying in the breeze, exposing scarred skin.
'You can become a hero.'
Mood souring, Izuku turns around and starts making his way to his new home. As he walks, he's very much aware of how one of his legs weighted more than the other.
Nedzu had gifted him a sensor integrated into an ankle monitor. It was a dark, slim metal band, noticeable under clothing. He'd thought about having it on his wrists instead, but the ankles were a secure spot that villains wouldn't look at right away.
Hopefully this won't ever be needed, Nedzu had told him after the monitor clicked shut around Izuku's ankle. But we never know, so this is insurance.
Izuku rotates the ankle that has the monitor gently, feeling it's faint weight. It could be considered extreme, even barbaric, to put a device like this on him -a device meant for villains on probation, no doubt but Izuku found a strange sense of safety in what many would consider a breach of privacy.
It was for his own good, after all.
.
.
.
Alright, maybe I shouldn't be doing this...then again, Kacchan would be proud.
Izuku falters.
Well, no, he finds himself arguing back at himself which, to be fair, was far from a healthy sign. A tower and a dragon, that's what's in store for me if shit happens.
A cruel little dark thought swamp past his eyes. That yeah, maybe Kacchan wouldn't be happy about him exploring alone, but that was if something happens. And given the fact he was in Yuuei? There was little threat in the way of Izuku's curiosity.
Besides, he's pretty sure Kacchan would accompany him if he knew. But unfortunately for his friend, he could not as there was a little tiny despicable thing called school that he was forced to attend if he wanted good grades and thus, a shot for a seat in the very establishment Izuku was aimlessly walking through.
...good god, he still can't believe he's here-
As he turns around a corner, he finds a yellow caterpillar on the floor.
Izuku stares.
After a moment, he closes his eyes. Hard. Then he opens them again.
Nope, the yellow blob was still there. Though now that he looked at it more carefully, it wasn't a blob or a caterpillar or whatever his aching head had managed to conjure up. It was a sleeping bag, a rather old one at that. A faded yellow color, it's slight wear and tear spoke of long use.
For a moment, he considers that the brain damage finally caught up to him and he was hallucinating.
...then he remembers a few flashes from Omniscience about a yellow sleeping bag, and he's pretty certain that it's this specific yellow sleeping bag. And he knows what is contained in that bag. Does he really want to poke that sleeping bear?
Well.
Fuck it, he lives only once.
Channel that inner Kacchan, he thinks a bit ridiculously as he approaches the sleeping bag. Placing a hand on the top, he pokes at it once.
Silence.
A bit more courageous -and mildly worried for the mental state of the person who decided sleeping in the middle of the hallway of a school was a good, sound idea- Izuku grips the edge of the sleeping bag and pulls, rolling it over.
He's faced with the opening of the bag.
It's a man that was sleeping in it, his head and messing dark hair being the only thing peeking out from out the sleeping bag.. He has a bit of stubble and his eyes were open.
Wait.
His eyes were open.
"Eraserhead!" Izuku recoils with a yelp, falling on his ass.
Before his eyes the yellow sleeping bag wiggles, and inch by inch the man stands up with a smoothness that only spoke of practice, the thick sleeping gear sliding off him with almost unnatural grace. He's wearing his hero suit underneath, a pair of blank pants and shirt with a long, pale grey scarf that hung heavy around his shoulders.
"You're the Sybil." The man -Eraserhead- denotes flatly. He bends down to pick up his bag like it's normal -oh he likes this man already- then regards Izuku again. "The boy with the foresight Quirk. Nedzu had a meeting about you."
Oh, well that was touching. At least introductions would be mostly off the table.
He sucked at those.
"And you're Aizawa Shouta. Eraserhead." Izuku breathes, somehow finding himself fascinated with this ragged, unkempt, sleep deprived man because he knew what he could do. Then again Kacchan was his best friend and was, to quote the boy's own mother, a literal gremlin. So maybe Izuku had bad taste in the people he admired. Except All Might. And maybe Naomasa. That last one really depended on if the man
Wait. His mouth was still moving on his own.
"-you're an underground hero that can erase Emitter and Transformation-type Quirks!"
The man blinks at the verbal garbage he was spewing out.
"You've seen it." The underground hero guessed.
Logical, but nope. Very close to the truth, though. At least in a literal sense.
"Yes. On tv." Eraserhead blinks again, faltering, clearly not expecting this response. "I don't need to use my Quirk for that. You never use it on Mutant types."
"You've seen me. On television." The man repeats flatly, unimpressed. Then, he frowned and pointed something out that Izuku knew was coming. "Media isn't allowed to record my fights."
"Your internship days." Izuku chirps in response. "I dug them up. Internet."
The man just scowls in response. Izuku can see the reflection of his own, bright blue eyes on his red ones. It makes almost a mixture of purple in Eraserhead's eyes. What an oddity.
"What kind of Quirk is it?" The Yuuei teacher asks, startling him with the question. He clears his throat. "Your Foresight Quirk." He asks more specifically, examining him intently -especially his big, blue eyes.
Izuku instantly has an idea what he's going for. A mixture of excitement and worry claws at his gut, fighting to overtake the other.
If it worked-
"Emitter. I...huh...do you want to try and erase it?" The green haired boy asks, anxious.
"Depends. I've heard from Nedzu that you can't control it." Eraserheads says, eyes narrowing slightly. It brought out the massive dark circles around his eyes even more, making the man look kind of like a sleep deprived raccoon. "Is it really Emitter?"
"Yup." Izuku nods, shuffling in place. Nervousness buzzes under his skin like a thousand restless ants. "So, can we-"
Eraserhead's eyes flash scarlet, startling him into silence. At the same time, Omniscience goes abruptly silent, snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
Izuku freezes.
Quiet.
For the first time since his youth, his head was all quiet. Not a noise, not a peep, just his own thoughts.
...wait.
...no, it's not. He looks down at the floor frowning as he can feel Omniscience humming, just much more quietly now. The sound was building up though, steadily crawling back to the familiar stream of information that made his headache pulse.
Well, that didn't work. So much for that.'
Even more annoyingly, there was something wet dripping down his face. He was crying. Instinctively Izuku reaches up, touching his left cheek and pulled away to look at it. It's warm, was he really crying in front of-
Red greets him, dripping slick and warm down his fingers.
"Oh." He murmurs, looking up at Eraserhead, who's eyes had gotten considerably, alarmingly wider and his expression was far more panicked than Izuku was comfortable seeing on a Pro-Hero.
Fortunately he didn't have to witness the underground hero's panic for much longer, as his tiny noise of surprise was as far as he got before Izuku feels his eyes roll back and his legs give out under him.
Aizawa: *uses Erasure *
Omniscience:
Omniscience:
Omniscience: biTCH.
I had such a giggle about the way I designed this scene.
Next chapter:
Entrance Exams! Oh and some mama Midoriya. Aizawa, you might need to run.